Fixer Upper: Westeros
by woof999
Summary: {"Margaery, no." Tyrion said, not even looking up from over the top of his laptop at the brunette seated beside him at the conference table. "Margaery, yes." She shot back with a devious smirk.} Modern AU, Sandor, Margaery, and Tyrion have a hit reality show renovating houses, Margaery finds herself a Stark along the way. Multichap.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- This is a multichapter, Sansaery AU. Set in the universe of an HGTV reality show. I'm not quite sure how to explain it, but hopefully you'll enjoy.**

* * *

"Margaery, no." Tyrion said, not even looking up from over the top of his laptop at the brunette seated beside him at the conference table.

"Margaery, yes." She shot back with a devious smirk. The Tyrell had been staring vacantly at the wall across from her for the last five minutes and with the little secretive smile on her face, it wasn't hard to guess what was going on in her head.

"Could you just keep it in your pants for one episode?" He sighed in exasperation.

Clegane scoffed at the mere concept. Of the three of them, tall man was the only one hard at work, skimming listings for their newest clients, "What about the four bedroom on Central?"

"It doesn't have enough bathrooms." Margaery didn't even have to check her laptop to know the specifics of the property. She reclined lazily in her chair, scanning an appraising glance about the conference room. It was a small space, just large enough to hold a table and six chairs, it had glass windows overlooking the rest of their modest office. Most of the work took place on location anyway so they hardly spent time in the building.

"We can always add bathrooms." Tyrion threw in.

"Not with that house." Margaery shook her head, "To add one on the top floor it would cut into the walk in closet off the master bedroom which Cersei wouldn't allow, and it's so old that running pipes for another on the second or basement would cost more than it's worth."

Tyrion looked to Clegane for confirmation, scowling when the man nodded that once again, Margaery was right. She always was. While Tyrion was the brains behind the whole operation, keeping the numbers in check, overseeing the houses they flipped, and dealing with the network execs and Sandor was the handyman, in charge of renovation crews and doing much of the work himself, Margaery was everything else. She was part realtor, part interior decorator, and most importantly, she was all charm, laying it on thick for the cameras, and always keeping the clients pleased. It was thanks to her that 'Fixer Upper: Westeros' was such a hit show- well her and the wonderful contrast between her bright smiles and Sandor's gruff personality.

She knew all the available listings in Westeros like the back of her hand.

"The old Victorian on Flea Bottom?" Clegane suggested.

"No, there's not nearly enough natural light, and Cersei wants open concept on the main floor." Margaery dismissed.

"Open concepts and natural light are just matters of knocking enough shit down." Sandor shrugged.

"Old Victorian." Margaery repeated back at him, "No way there's going to be enough structural support on the main to make that feasible."

Sandor quite nearly growled.

"Maybe you could look up some listings and contribute instead of scheming how to get into bed with the client?" Tyrion prodded.

Margaery cut him a glare, "I don't scheme."

"You're angling to sleep with a city councilman."

The Tyrell laughed short and dry, "First of all, I'm not angling, I'm planning meticulously and then I will execute. Second of all, I'm not after him, I'm going to sleep with his wife."

"Ranch house with the fountain in the yard on Downing Street?" Sandor cut in, doing a valiant attempt at staying on track.

"The backyard is too small and they've got dogs." Margaery frowned.

Tyrion dropped his head into his hands, "That's my sister."

"Well Robert would deserve it, he spent enough time looking down my shirt at the consultation." She defended.

"You could have done with doing up one more button on that shirt." Clegane muttered under his breath.

"What?" Margaery turned on him sharply, normally the tall man would stay out of it when Margaery and Tyrion would go in on these little spats. Now that he left his neutrality, Margaery zeroed in on him.

"You heard." he deflected, not the least bit cowed by Margaery's glare. He dropped his gaze back to the computer, "How about the one with the big corner yard on Kings Landing?"

"No, the fireplace prevents an open concept." Margaery frowned, then paused. Her eyes grew comically wide, "Wait! No, we take out the wall between the kitchen and formal dining room, leave the fireplace wall to make an entryway. Tear out most of the rear wall for natural light and access to a big deck we build for Robert." Margaery spoke quickly, reaching over to steal Sandor's laptop and scan over the blueprint, "Yea, that will work nicely."

It took nearly two more hours, but together they managed to put together a list of six potential homes to show to the Baratheons the following day.

The first three houses were shut down over what Margaery seethed were 'completely irrational reasons that could easily be fixed with a goddamn hammer and some paint' as she angrily pressed down on the accelerator. Tyrion shifted uneasily in the backseat, he still didn't know why they let Margaery drive when all three of them went places, the brunette always ranted about the clients and had a surprising streak of road rage which rendered most footage recorded on their dashboard camera unusable because of her swearing at other drivers. For what certainly wasn't the first (or tenth) time, Tyrion thanked the seven that they hadn't opted to get a car with the show logo on the side. He could only imagine the bad press they would get if someone ever realized it was the charming brunette from HGTV who tailgated them down highway nine.

"I'm sure they'll like one of the remaining houses." Tyrion tried to placate.

"They fucking better." Clegane grouched, when Margaery got on a roll, he usually joined, and it was left to Tyrion to try and turn the mood.

Luckily Margery was also aggressively professional, so the moment they were out of the car at the next listing she had a winning smile plastered across her face and was prattling on about curb appeal while Tyrion worked the lockbox.

...

"Told you the corner house was a winner." Sandor smirked from the passenger seat once the other five houses Margaery had selected were all shot down by Cersei.

"They just chose it because of the open concept I came up with for the first floor." She groused, aggressively changing lanes without the use of her blinker.

"Now now ladies, you're both pretty." Tyrion interjected.

Margaery flipped him off at the same time as Sandor groaned out 'bugger off' under his breath. Yes, everything was just as it should be.

…

Margaery parked crookedly on the drive and emerged from her Jeep with large sunglasses and two drink carrier trays from Starbucks. Tyrion clucked his tongue as he watched her walk up the drive, they were filming some set bits at the house before she would be cut loose to go out and start working her design magic. Sandor had disappeared somewhere in the house, already taking measurements and making notes in his perpetually present little black notebook.

"Thank you for gracing us with your presence." The Lannister teased as Margaery came up the drive.

"I'm five minutes early." She said, "And I brought coffee."

"Bless you." He accepted the cup graciously, taking a cautious sip and sighing when the strong taste swept across his tongue.

"Sandor?"

"Already playing." Tyrion gestured over his shoulder into the house.

Margaery disappeared in search of the tall man. Tyrion took a minute to soak in the relaxing morning before the project would begin in earnest.

Joining the rest of the crew inside, Tyrion found Margaery sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs and sipping a large coffee. She appeared to be teasing a blushing Podrick while Sandor was tapping the wall, probably trying to determine the location of studs.

"Margaery, leave the poor boy alone." He chastised, he couldn't have her distracting the camera crew, or they would never get anything done.

"I'm not bothering him! Am I Pod?" She asked, putting on her best doe eyes.

"N-n-no. Course not." Podrick stammered out, his blush rising to the tips of his ears.

Tyrion rolled his eyes, "Sandor, put on your show face. I want these bits filmed in the next hour and then Marge, you're going to meet with a man about flooring, yes?"

"Yeah, that Bolton creep." The brunette confirmed, hopping off the counter and smoothing her hair back.

…

"I swear to the Stranger, if she vetoes one more of the wood samples I show her, I'm not even going to try and sleep with her anymore." Margaery fumed, dropping dramatically onto a low ladder in the demolished kitchen of the house.

Sandor was working on tearing up the old flooring while Tyrion idly sifted through contracting offers.

"They're all too light, or too knotted, or not knotted enough, or looks like something rotted." She continued, "I don't know how in the hell you grew up with the woman."

"Lots of arguing."

Clegane tossed some loosened floorboards over his shoulder in the general direction of his trash heap. A few splinters shot off and clipped Margaery's shoes, "Watch it over there." She called.

"You do realize this is a construction site, not a fuckin coffee shop." He grouched.

"If you swear, I can't use the footage." Podrick reminded them for what felt like the hundredth time from behind his shoulder camera.

"Just take out the sound and add it to a montage." Tyrion suggested.

The cameraman shook his head, "The entire show can't be an hour long montage."

…

"We need to rewire the entire top floor."

"Define need." Tyrion rubbed his temples.

Sandor's face was grim, "It's so far out of code, it's a wonder the whole house hasn't caught fire yet."

"Fuck." The short man cracked open his ledger book, "How much are we talking?"

"Enough that Marge is going to have to think twice about the marble tile she wants to put all over the master bath."

"You're breaking that news to her."

"Like hell I am." Clegane laughed, "And get an earful about how she designed the sink vanity around the tile, tying in the chrome accessories and some other flowery bullshit. No fucking way."

…

The phone call to break the news of the tile to Margaery went as well as could be expected. It was full of swearing and blaming Sandor and a lecture on the importance of building a room around a feature like tile and how she would have to completely redesign the bathroom. It ended with her saying how it would be a 'fucking miracle if I can get Cersei to agree to a different tile'.

…

"Is the master bathroom safe to walk through?" Margaery asked on a conference call one evening halfway through the project.

"Safe enough, it's bare backerboard on the floor, so your shoes will get dusty as hell but you should be fine." Sandor commented through grunts. He was still at the house, working late into the night on reframing some windows and talking through a bluetooth headset.

"Good, and when do you think you'll be out of there?"

"Bout an hour."

"Great."

"Margaery, what are you doing?" Tyrion asked.

"Just wanted to look at some tile samples since I can't have my marble." The Tyrell sounded far too innocent, and Tyrion knew enough to be suspicious.

"Sure."

…

The next morning, Margaery's smile was far too wide, and the extra pep in her step when she walked through the house to direct the men delivering cabinets was a dead giveaway. She had gotten laid the night before.

"Tell me you didn't." Tyrion frowned.

"Cersei and I came to an agreement on the tile."

Sandor laughed loudly, "Screwed her into submission did you?"

Tyrion's sigh of, "My sister." was lost to Margaery's much louder chuckle, "I just made her an offer she couldn't refuse." The wink at the end of her statement left her and Clegane laughing while Tyrion just did his very best to banish the image of Margaery convincing his sister of anything.

…

Two weeks later found them at the end of yet another Fixer Upper. As was their tradition, Sandor, Margaery, and Tyrion celebrated finishing the project with a six pack in the completed home.

They lounged on the kitchen floor, leant against appliances and the newly built island. Podrick had been invited to join them for the first time, he had been with them from the beginning of the show, and felt like their collective little brother.

"God this granite looks great with the backsplash." Margaery congratulated herself, wraping her pretty pink lips delicately around the top of her bottle.

"I don't really like the dark countertops." Sandor appraised it critically.

"You have butcher block counters in your house." Margaery said it as though that proved everything.

"I like butcher block counters." Pod blushed into his drink.

…

Margaery was in a dress with the neckline somewhat lower than was absolutely necessary, and even Sandor was in a nice button up for the final filmed walk through.

"And here, you can see we took out most of this back wall and replaced it with glass so you have a great view and all this beautiful natural light." The Tyrell was in full realtor mode, selling the couple on their new home.

"It's just stunning." Robert commented, his eyes on Margaery's cleavage rather than the back wall.

The brunette giggled girlishly, playing her part well, and all the while making eye contact with a glaring Cersei.

When they finished the walk through, and the cameras went off, Cersei pulled Margaery aside for a private thank you, "I just wanted to talk with you about the master bath again. I'm not in love with the brushed chrome finish on the taps and want your opinion should we ever decide to swap them out." The blonde explained, her eyes were far too serious ot just be thinking about bathroom fixtures as she took Margaery's hand and practically dragged the younger girl upstairs, leaving the men to chat.

"You've done a great job here." Robert offered, his usual jovial smile in place, cheeks ruddy from the exertion of walking the whole home.

"Well the house had good bones." Sandor replied.

They made awkward stilted conversation for about fifteen minutes until Margaery reappeared- alone now- at the top of the stairs. She wasn't ruffled in the slightest, and had her best television smile plastered across her face as she bid a final farewell to Robert, allowing him to pull her into a tight hug and kiss her lingeringly on the cheeks.

"What did Cersei want?" Tyrion asked, once they were all piled back in the SUV.

"She was just giving me a personal thank you." A crooked smile gave her away, "Her oldest son and his fiance are looking to get a home and she wants them on the show."

"That's all?" Sandor clearly didn't believe her.

"That's all." She echoed. Margaery's head whipped around to shout at a passing car as she changed lanes quickly, and her long hair flew off her shoulder revealing a bright red mark on her neck.

"Is that lipstick?" The tall man already knew the answer, but wouldn't pass up the opportunity to bring Margaery's deviant behavior to light.

She brought up a hand and rubbed at the mark, her fingers came away clean and her smirk grew, "No, not lipstick. Must be a hickey."

"Gods." Tyrion muttered.

…

They met with Joffrey and his fiance early the next week, and it was one of the most grating consultations they had ever done. They were used to couples disagreeing on things with their dream homes and having to work out compromises to accommodate differing tastes, but they had never had anything quite like Joffrey and Sansa.

Margaery started them off with the style of house, Sansa loved historic- an old Victorian or colonial home while Joffrey wanted more modern- midcentury, ranch style. Once Joffrey contradicted Sansa's opinion, she caved.

"Are you sure, I'm sure we can find a house that would suit both of your preferences." Margaery frowned at how easily Sansa folded to Joffrey's will.

"No, that's fine. I'm not very attached to the style." Sansa quickly deflected, sneaking small sidelong glances at her fiance.

"Okay." Margaery made a small note on her legal pad, "What about floor plan?"

"I'd love an open concept, especially from the kitchen to the living space. I spend a lot of time cooking so it would be nice not to be closed off like it is in our current place." Sansa's eyes lit up as she talked about her dream home.

"I don't like open concepts." Joffrey cut in, "The one in mother's new place is awful." Margaery's smile became even more forced as he talked about the floor plan she had designed, "It's just so much wasted space."

"I suppose you're right." Sansa dimmed, her eyes were downcast into her lap. Her hands idly twisting her engagement ring around her finger.

Tyrion and Sandor shared a look.

The rest of the consultation continued in much the same manner, and when they bid the couple goodbye, Margaery's notes were an angry scribble. The brunette's eyes were nothing short of scary when they were finally alone in the conference room.

"That man is an ass."

"Not my best nephew." Tyrion conceded.

"He's awful and doesn't deserve her."

At that, Tyrion's brows rose, "Margaery, no!"

"Margaery, yes!" She shot back, "This is different! This isn't just some one night stand for fun. Sansa deserves better than that pathetic excuse of a man, you saw how she made herself smaller for him. It's such bullshit." Margaery paused for a moment, eyes dropping to her notes, "And he has awful taste!"

"She has a point." Sandor reluctantly agreed, "You know that's not what a healthy relationship looks like."

The Lannister sighed, "You can't honestly tell me you're planning to break up a couple we're renovating a house for." Margaery's lips tucked up in the corner, "You're killing me."

"I have to!" The brunette cried in defense.

* * *

 **A/N- More to come soon. I couldn't resist a little Margaery/Cersei action, they would be an awful couple, but I can't help but think they still have some chemistry. From here on out it's going to be Margaery and Sansa finally getting together.**


	2. Chapter 2

Margaery did not hesitate. She set her plans in motion immediately three days later when they took the couple out to see some listings. The first one was a beautiful Victorian with an open concept and a large backyard that Margaery knew full well would be too expensive when they added in the reno budget. But she couldn't help herself.

It was everything that Sansa had said she wanted before she gave way to Joffrey's preferences in their initial meeting. The redhead's eyes were wide in excitement from the moment she stepped out of the car with Joffrey trailing behind unimpressed.

"It's wonderful." Sansa breathed, coming to stand at Margaery's elbow.

The older woman mirrored her wide grin, "I thought you would love it. Here, I'll show you through while the boys talk shop." She easily threaded her arm through Sansa's and gently led her into the property.

"How much?" Joffrey asked.

"Out of your budget." Tyrion replied dryly.

"So why are we wasting our time here?"

"For inspiration." The boy pulled a face but followed the other two up the drive towards the house.

"- the tile and cabinetry are rather outdated, but that's all easily fixed." Margaery was saying to Sansa, arms still connected. The Tyrell had a gentle smile that was so different from her usual flirtatious smirk. It was clear to Tyrion that she was in deep already.

"It's a lovely space, and I love the coffered ceiling." Sansa gushed.

"I don't like it." Joffrey's frown was visible from the entryway.

"It's just one room." Margaery couldn't help but snap.

"It's ugly." The boy childishly countered.

Tyrion's warning glare was the only thing that kept Margaery from giving a harsh reply.

…

The rest of the homes they showed were much more reasonably within the budget, and despite most of them being modern, Margaery had managed to find houses that retained some historic elements for Sansa.

It was a long day, looking at listings always was, and by the time they made it to the fifth house, tensions were running somewhat high. Sansa and Joffrey must have been arguing about something in their car because when they pulled up, Sansa hardly waited for the car to come to a complete stop before she was out and walking quickly over to Margaery, her lips set in a thin line.

It had become something of routine, Margaery would take Sansa ahead into the house, talking up all the great features, and Tyrion and Sandor would follow with Joffrey and try to reconcile his complaints.

Now Sansa was the one to take Margaery's elbow, "Alright?" The brunette asked.

"Yes." The lie wasn't quite seamless, but Margaery didn't press for the time being.

Rather she began leading the way up the path, "I think you're really going to like this one. It's go a skylight in the master bath that lets in a ton of natural light."

The house was nearly a winner. Nearly, up until Sansa saw the backyard, "It's rather small."

"I know." Margaery frowned, "But picture it zero-scaped, nice rock with some tastefully placed plants and a large deck with a grill and plenty of seating. It will be great for entertaining."

"But not for a dog."

Joffrey scoffed from where he and the men had caught up to them, "I thought we agreed you were getting rid of that beast."

Sansa's eyes flashed and for the first time, they saw her stand up to her fiancé, "Lady has been at Arya's since our apartment complex doesn't allow pets, but I thought she was going to come home with us once we moved out."

"The dog hates me, there's no way she's coming."

"Good judge of character." Sandor muttered under his breath.

Sansa changed gears, "What about when we have kids, we'll need a proper yard for them."

Joffrey laughed, and it was a cruel sound that raised the hair on the back of Margaery's neck, "We're not having kids, we've had this conversation before."

"You've had this conversation before." Sansa accused, "You never listen and you always said we would return to it."

"Well now we are, no kids."

Margaery, Tyrion, and Sandor were struck silent at the argument, sharing loaded glances. Podrick had the good sense to point his camera at the ground through the exchange, this fight would not make it into the final cut of the episode.

Sansa's jaw worked back and forth, and she turned on her heel suddenly and left. She walked quickly from the room, heading in the direction of one of the front bedrooms. Joffrey laughed, evidently amused by his fiance's reaction. Tyrion moved to follow the girl. He had known her for a few years, seeing her at family gatherings that Joff brought her too, and now he felt more familial protective instinct towards her than he ever did for his nephew. But Margaery paused him with a hand on the shoulder, "I've got it."

She found Sansa with her back to the doorway, her head was in her hands, and her shoulders were shaking just barely. Margaery approached slowly, as she would a wild animal, "Oh sweetling." She said gently.

Sansa's head rose guiltily, tears streaked down her cheeks. Margaery was surprised when the taller woman stepped into her space, tucking her face into Margaery's neck, and resting her arms about the brunette's shoulders.

Margaery got over her shock quickly enough, gathering Sansa in her arms, "Shhh, you're alright." She whispered into the redhead's ear, "I've got you."

Sansa only allowed herself to break for a few moments before she seemed to flip a switch. She drew back far enough to dry her tears and set her jaw in firm determination, "Gods I'm sorry, this is embarrassing."

"You don't need to apologize." Margaery dismissed, keeping her arms around Sansa's waist.

"Yes, I shouldn't be crying over something silly like this."

"It's not silly." She ran a hand through Sansa's hair, straightening the strands that had gone awry while she cried, "It's a big thing about your future, and Joffrey doesn't much seem to care about your opinion on it."

"Oh no, Joff is just very particular." Sansa immediately jumped to his defense, "He's really quite kind, he just comes off a bit harsh."

Margaery didn't believe that for a moment.

"We should go back." Sansa said, even as her face pinched at the thought.

"We can take as much time as you like." Margaery fussed more over the taller woman's hair. It was so soft and long, and Sansa let her eyes fall shut and her head tip into the gentle caress.

They stayed locked in that embrace for a while longer until Tyrion knocked gently on the door frame, "We've got one more listing today, and we've got to get there before five for the realtor to let us in." He said, squirming under the glare Margaery shot him for being interrupted.

"We can see it tomorrow, it's been a long day." The Tyrell said, not stepping away from the younger woman she was cradling protectively in her arms.

"It's okay." Sansa put on a brave face, "I'm fine, let's go."

"Are you sure?" Margaery's voice was soft and her eyes were full of concern that made Tyrion feel like he was invading an intimate moment, "I'm sure."

Sansa didn't say a word to Joffrey, though she turned down Margaery's offer to drive her to the next listing.

…

When it came down to it, Joffrey and Sansa settled on that final house they saw. It was a mid-century modern home, long and one story, the backyard was modest but large enough to accomodate a dog and a family one day. The large compromise was the open floor plan that Margaery pushed for, insisting that the current blocked off rooms on the main floor wasted space, eventually Joffrey came around.

The real selling point was a large unfinished basement that Sandor could turn into a den for Joffrey.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to design this lair." Margaery groused from where she was laying dramatically across the ground in the conference room.

"It's a den, not a lair." Tyrion corrected smoothly.

"It's stupid."

"Just get some leather couches, dark wood paneling on the walls, soft recessed lighting, and build in a wet bar." Sandor laid out.

Margaery's face scrunched, "Wood paneling is so seventies."

"Don't forget a wall of gun safes." Tyrion added.

"Lair."

…

Margaery continued to lay it on thick. She took Sansa out for lunch to go over options for tile on the back splash, they went on a drive to a previous house that Sandor and Margaery had done to get an idea of how a particular type of fireplace looked in a stone feature wall, she even too Sansa on a field trip to a rock quarry to pick out flagstones for the back garden pathway.

Each time she would make gentle needling comments. Small things about how Joffrey wasn't taking a very big interest in the project, how lonely Sansa seemed. And each time, she got a little bit closer.

Each time she fell just a little bit deeper. Until she was completely enchanted by the intelligent caring young woman engaged to an absolute garbage can of a man.

It was finally when they went to a local plant nursery- owned by the Tyrell family- to pick out some landscaping elements, that Margaery saw a real payoff. They were strolling down rows of rose bushes when Margaery got another opening, "Were you thinking just flowers in the back, or did you want to do a small vegetable patch as well?"

Sansa trailed her fingertips along some petals, "Just flowers I think, I'm dead horrible at gardening but I love having things growing around."

"And Joffrey isn't much of a gardener?"

Sansa chuckled at the thought, "No, Joff's not really got a good touch with living things."

The double meaning didn't escape Margaery, nor the sadness behind Sansa's eyes.

"Just flowers it is then." The older woman said decisively. She reached out and tangled the fingers of one hand with Sansa's, guiding her down the rows, "Rose bushes would look lovely along the deck." She suggested.

"I adore these ones." Sansa gestured at a clump of bushes. The flowers grew thick, big heads with yellow petals tipped with red.

"The queen of thorns." Margaery supplied the name, "My grandmother actually created that particular hybrid."

"They're lovely."

Margaery took a brave step closer, looking down at their still joined hands before back up at Sansa from beneath her lashes, "As are you."

The redhead blushed, but didn't back down, "You're too kind."

"No, I'm just stating the facts." Margaery continued, inching just a bit closer into Sansa's space. She could smell the subtle perfume on the taller girl, vanilla and something warm and comforting, "You are by far the loveliest thing I've ever seen, and you deserve to have the loveliest flowers in your garden. You deserve to have a lovely life in the house of your dreams. You deserve the world, Sansa. But mostly you deserve so much more than Joffrey Baratheon."

Sansa's eyes widened at the statement, she opened her mouth to object but the sincerity in Margaery's eyes stopped her. Margaery's free hand pushed some hair behind Sansa's ear, letting her fingers linger on the taller woman's jaw. Here, in the green house surrounded by flowers, it was easy for everything else to melt away, it was easy to pretend they were the only people in the world.

That's how it felt when Sansa bent her head down so her lips met Margaery's, like they were the only people in the world and like nothing could go wrong.

When they pulled apart, the Tyrell wore the softest of smiles while Sansa just looked guilty, "I can't." Margaery's smile fell, "I'm engaged, and Joff and we bought a house, oh gods. We bought a house and there's no backing out now." Panic dawned across Sansa's face and her breath came in quick gasps.

"Sansa, sweetling, look at me." Margaery commanded, both hands going to cradle Sansa's face and force her attention, "Everything's going to be fine, I promise."

It took a few exaggerated breaths, but soon Sansa's breathing evened out, and her lips drew up in a sad grin, "You can't possibly promise that."

…

Margaery wasn't deterred.

She didn't back off. The very next day she called Sansa to meet and talk about flooring. At first they both astutely pretended that the kiss hadn't happened. They made small talk about the weather and how the house was coming along, Margaery laid out floor samples along with the paint chips they had selected for the kitchen cabinets and a small sample of the countertop so they could match. They settled pretty easily on a nice light wood, and lapsed into silence.

For a while Margaery let the quiet wash over them, relaxing in the calm atmosphere of the local coffee shop they had met in. Finally Sansa broke, "I'm sorry about yesterday, I shouldn't have kissed you."

"You don't need to apologize for that." Margaery said quickly, reaching across the table to grasp Sansa's hands, reassured by the way Sansa thread their fingers together solidly, "That was just as much my choice as it was yours, and I don't regret it."

Sansa sighed, her lips betraying her with a little grin, "I wish things could be different, but I'm marrying Joff."

She reached up to brush some hair behind her ear, and her sleeve slid up a bit, drawing Margaery's attention, "What's that?"

"What?" Sansa's brows knit in confusion.

"On your wrist." She caught Sansa's hand a pushed up the sleeve, the redhead didn't even try and draw her hand away as Margaery gasped at what she found.  
"It's nothing, we just had a small fight last night. He didn't mean to." Sansa covered immediately.

Margaery's eyes softened and she carefully traced over the angry purple bruises on the taller girl's wrist, "This isn't nothing, Sansa."

"Yes it is." She said, almost pleadingly, "It's just a couple of bruises, please Margaery. Forget about it."

"He's abusing you. I can't just forget this."

Tears welled in the redhead's eyes, but she didn't let them fall, "Please."

Rather than answer, Margaery bent her head and pressed butterfly light kisses to each fingertip bruise. She pulled Sansa's sleeve back into place, "Are you safe in the apartment?"

"Yes." Sansa's voice was weak but it did not tremble.

"This can't go on." the redhead tried to open her mouth to protest, but Margaery shook her head to silence her. She gathered up her bag and looked pleasingly at the younger girl, "Stay safe, sweetling. Just for a while longer." She cupped Sansa's jaw once more, leaning across the table to press a kiss to her forehead.

With that, she left the coffee shop, walking as calmly as she could out to her car and driving at a reasonably responsible speed to the house where she knew she would find Sandor and his crew hard at work.

When she arrived, she parked haphazardly behind a dumpster they'd had brought in and walked carefully and deliberately up the drive.

She greeted the crew she recognized from past projects with a tight smile and made her way through the house until she found Sandor. Her heels clicked resonantly in the rubble.

She found the tall man on a ladder in the first floor powder room, fiddling around with some wiring, "Is there anything you've got left to demolish?"

Sandor thought a moment, his large hands working deftly at the delicate wires, "We need to tear out the old drywall to expand the kitchen pantry on the right hand side."

"Thanks." Margaery grabbed a hammer straight out of his toolbelt and marched off in the direction of the kitchen.

Sandor thought nothing of it until the sounds of banging overshadowed even the noise of the busy construction site. He let it slide until swearing joined in with the banging.

He climbed down from the ladder and stalked through the construction site. All around him, men had paused in their work and were looking toward the kitchen in concern, "Get on with it! We're not paying you to stand around!" He growled.

He found Margaery in all her high heeled, pencil skirt, bouncing curls glory, wielding the stolen hammer like Jack Nicholson with an axe in 'The Shining'. All the while swearing loudly.

"Fucking no good, prick. Piece of shit, entitled asshole." She brought the hammer back and swung as hard as she could, the tool landing satisfyingly in the wall and burrying in the drywall. Margaery yanked the hammer out, pulling off a large hunk of the wall and getting dust all over her outfit. She had a small chunk of drywall in her hair.

She paused when she noticed Sandor watching her with amusement dancing in his eyes.

"That's the left side of the pantry."

Margaery took a step back, tilted her head slightly to the side in consideration, "And you can't expand it left instead of right?"

"No." He pointed with a large hand at some wiring she had nearly torn out in her wall demolishing fury, "That's the electrical for the stove."

"Oh." Margaery bit her lip.

Sandor sighed, leaning against the doorframe, "Want to tell me what's got you so worked up you're smashing holes in my walls?"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"It's private."

"Since when do you have anything private?" Margaery cut him a glare, "I've seen your tits on multiple occasions." He scoffed.

Margaery's lips twisted, conceding that one to the man, "It's someone else's secret."

"Sansa's." He made the connection immediately, "Tell me, we all care about the girl."

Margaery never was one for keeping things bottled up, and despite his gruff exterior, Margaery trusted Sandor tremendously, "Joffrey's abusing her and she doesn't want to leave him."

Sandor was silent for a moment, his throat moving as he swallowed harshly. Then a grim determination settled over his features, "I'm going to kill the little bastard."

"I'll help." Margaery confirmed, the hammer dangling from her hand did little to make the threat seem softer.

The two of them showed up in Tyrion's office that night with a case of beer, and a plan. Or rather the idea of a plan, and the hope that the Lannister would straighten the rest out.

* * *

 **A/N- LMK what you thought!**


	3. Chapter 3

It took three beers apiece (five for Tyrion), lots of swearing (mainly from Margaery and Sandor), and a few poorly thought out plans to get Joffrey somehow exiled from the country before they had a real plan.

…

Step one was to gather the troops, this part Margaery was in charge of.

There was certainly no shortage of Starks, but they were flung far and wide. The nearest sibling Margaery could track down was a sister who lived right in downtown Westeros, and she was who they called. She met Margaery, Sandor, and Tyrion in a coffee shop, and even Sandor had to admit that the girl was intimidating. All short dark hair, and a strong harsh jaw, she did not resemble her older sister in the slightest save for the fierce determination in her eyes.

"What's going on with my sister?" Arya asked the moment she sat down, not wasting time with an introduction.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Margaery Tyrell, these two are Sandor Clegane and Tyrion Lannister." She pointed out each man in turn, "You may recognize us from Fixer Upper."

"I don't." Arya said bluntly, "What's up with Sansa?"

"Well you see, the thing with your sister is-" Margaery began, but Sandor cut her off.

"Her asshole fiance is abusing her, and we're trying to get her to leave him for good."

Arya took the news with a clenched jaw and hardened eyes, "What's the plan?"

…

Step two ran at the same time as step three, and it was the truly dramatic part of the plan. If she hadn't been part of devising the whole scheme, Margaery would hardly believe that what they were doing was real life and not the plot of some dramatic soap opera.

As it was, she called Sansa to meet her at the house, Arya was with her, and together they were hosting something of an intervention.

From the moment, Sansa walked in the door, she knew something was wrong, "What are you doing here, Arya? Is Jon okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. On tour in Russia now I think with the Night's Watch. This is about you."

Sansa's gaze shifted to Margaery, she looked trapped like she wanted to run, "Margaery, you didn't-"  
"I had to."

"Please." She whispered, "Please forget all of this. I'm fine, I promise."

Arya stepped in, brash in a younger sister way, "You're not. Joffrey is an abusive piece of shit, and you need to leave him. Now."

"He doesn't mean to, it's always just little accidents."

Arya was far less even tempered than her sister, "And one day one of those accidents might just get you seriously hurt! You should have listened to Robb and Jon when they told you he was bad news the first time you brought him home."

"You know how overprotective they are, they don't like any boys you've ever brought home!"

"For good reason!" Arya was yelling at this point, and Margaery was debating stepping in to diffuse the tension, "They like Gendry though, because he's a good guy. Which is a hell of a lot more than can be said for Joffrey!"

Sansa looked like she was about to yell back, but her face fell, she crumpled in on herself, and wrapped her arms about her waist in an attempt to hold herself together. Margaery did cut in then, enveloping Sansa in her arms, "Hush sweetling. It's alright."

"It's not." Sansa gasped against Margaery's shoulder, "I know Joffrey's bad, but we're engaged and we bought this house together and I don't have anywhere to go. I haven't been on my own in four years, and back then I was still in college. I just can't-" She trailed off, nuzzling in closer to the brunette's neck.

Margaery let her, scraping fingernails along her scalp, "Shh, you can leave him if you want."

"But how-"

"You give the word and we go back to your apartment and pack up your things and you move in with me." Arya laid out easily, "I have a spare bedroom I've been using as an office. It will just be until you get back on your feet and can find your own place."

"But the house-"  
"Was paid for completely by Robert as an early wedding gift. You won't be out a cent." Margaery reassured her.

"Joffrey will never let me leave." Sansa confessed her biggest fear, face still hidden against the soft skin of Margaery's neck.

"Yes he will." The Tyrell said, "Right now he's with Tyrion and Sandor, their looking at furniture for his den, and once I text them, they'll keep him out of the way so he won't be at the apartment when you go to get your things."

"He'll still come after me." Sansa despaired, finally drawing back and trying to wipe at her eyes.

"That's the other thing." Margaery had a sneaky sort of smile on her face that drew her lips crooked, "Tyrion has some dirt on the family company. Apparently Tywin has been forging deals for years under Joffrey's name, wiring the money into some offshore accounts and evading taxes. I honestly don't fully understand it, but Tyrion swears it's enough to give Joffrey motive to never contact you again if Tyrion threatens him with it."

Sansa's jaw dropped in disbelief, "I don't understand."

"You just have to say the word, and you're free." Margaery smiled. She rubbed the redhead's shoulder, "All you have to do is ask."

Sansa's mouth opened and closed a couple of times before tears sprang anew. She threw her arms around Margaery again, this time roping Arya into the hug as well, "I take it that's a yes?" Arya asked.

Her sister laughed, watery and trembling, "Yes. Gods, thank you."

…

Margaery went with Arya and Sansa to pack the redhead's things and help them settle Sansa at her sister's place. It was a nice apartment in the heart of downtown, a little on the small side and a bit under furnished, but nice all things considered. Margaery couldn't help thinking through ways she would change the space- unable to stop the internal monologue of home renovation.

The moment they opened the door, the women were greeted by two massive dogs. Margaery let out a small yelp and ducked behind Sansa for protection. The taller girl merely laughed, deep and full, and the happiest Margaery had seen her in days. Sansa wrapped her arms around the large beast who had leapt on her, the dog was as tall as the Stark with her front paws on Sansa's shoulders.

The dog let out a low pitched whining noise and scrabbled to get even closer, climbing up Sansa's body until she was sitting happily in Sansa's arms, nosing insistently at her hair. Sansa laughed at the dog's antics, "I missed you too, Lady. Have you been good for Arya?"

"She's been an absolute terror." Arya sighed, pushing the larger of the two dogs off and back into the apartment, "She doesn't go for walks, she goes for sprints. I know you always used to take her running in the mornings in college, but she is the most energetic dog I've ever seen. More so even than Shaggy."

"Arya, are you letting my dog get fat?" Sansa hefted Lady in her arms. They made a comical picture, the massive dog overflowing Sansa's arms seemingly unaware that the behavior was absurd given her size.

Arya just shook her head in reply, taking her first boxes of Sansa's things through to the redhead's bedroom. Sansa finally set her dog back down on the ground and turned to see Margaery still hidden behind her, "Not a dog person?"

"Oh I'm a dog person, but that's not a dog, that's a wolf or maybe a small bear." Margaery flapped her hand at Lady who was sitting, observing the brunette with interest.

"Her name is Lady." Sansa introduced, "And she has very good manners."

Margaery shot her a disbelieving look before cautiously approaching the large canine. Lady took immediate interest, padding right up to Margaery and nosing at the hand Margaery offered her. The dog seemingly gave her approval and licked at Margaery's hand.

The brunette smiled, "Alright, she's a sweet one."

"Hey! More boxes less standing." Arya hollered from the kitchen area, "This is moving day not a doggy play date."

…

Step four was greatly contested, and still unsanctioned by Tyrion at the time that Margaery and Sandor put it into action. They met at Margaery's apartment in the middle of the night, when Sandor knocked, he was greeted with the brunette dressed head to toe in black, her curls hidden even beneath a slouchy black beanie.

"You look like a cat burglar."

"And you look like a contractor." She frowned at the man's typical plaid shirt half tucked into faded light wash jeans and a pair of heavy boots, "Sandor! Why didn't dress up for this?"

He sighed, "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah." Margaery stepped into the hallway and pulled her apartment door shut behind her, "You've got the supplies?"

"In my truck, let's go Jack MacLean."

"Who the hell is that?"

"One of the most infamous cat burglars in American history. He stole over a hundred and thirty million in jewels in two decades."

"Why do you know that?" Margaery asked, stepping up onto the foot rail and pulling herself into the raised cab of Sandor's massive truck.

"It's household knowledge!"  
"Not a regular household." She reached out to change the radio station and her hand was slapped away sharply.

"Don't touch the radio."

"Nobody listens to country music, Sandor."

"I do. Don't touch my radio, don't mess with the heat, keep your feet off of things."

"I know the truck rules. This thing is your baby."

Sandor rolled his eyes, but refrained from commenting as he pulled away from the curb. They drove for twenty minutes before pulling to a stop on the side of the road in a nice neighborhood, "Which house is it?" Margaery asked.

"It's around the corner, then the third house."

"You're sure?" Sandor gave her a look and Margaery nodded, "Right, let's do this."

They hopped out of the truck and Sandor got a large black bag from the bed of his truck then led the way. The street was quiet, here the driveways were long and houses set back from the road with little lighting aside from infrequent street lights. It was perfect.

Sandor motioned at a home just up ahead on the opposite side of the road, "You recognize it?"

"Oh yeah." Margaery nodded, "We strike silent and fast, we're out of here before they even know what's happened to them. I think the best strategy would be to-"

Margaery was cut off from her detailed planning when Sandor set down his bag, popped open the first carton, took an egg, and hurled it at the cherry red convertible at the end of the drive.

"Sandor!"

"What?" He asked, grabbing the next and throwing it, "Grab a carton, Marge. I brought six."

She quickly got over her shock and took a carton from the bag. Her aim was somewhat less precise than Sandor's but it was the end of the summer and the weather had been really nice lately, so Joffrey had left the top down on his convertible.

The egg yolks left a very satisfying yellow residue when they exploded against his black leather seats.

They threw all six dozen eggs at the car, and when they were done, Sandor ran to his truck and came back with another bag, "What's that?"

"Birdseed." He smirked.

"I don't get it."

Sandor crossed the street so they were on the same side as the convertible, Margaery right on his heels, "We sprinkle some of this in here, birds come to eat, and they stay to shit."

A wide grin crossed Margaery's face, "You're a bit of an evil genius, you know."

"I grew up with a monster of an older brother." Sandor said by way of explanation, upending the bag over Joffrey's car.

Margaery circled around the car, "Here, toss me the bag." Sandor did, and Margaery dropped it. The weight hitting the hood of the car set off the alarm.

"Damn it, Tyrell!" Sandor hissed.

"It's not my fault the bag is slippery!"

"Yes it is! I can't believe you dropped it!"  
"I can't believe you threw it, you should have known I can't catch!"

Their argument was cut short as lights began flicking on all through the neighborhood, "Let's get the fuck out of here." Sandor said, turning to jog back to the car, Margaery sprinted behind him and hardly managed to haul herself up into the cab of the truck before Sandor was flooring it away.

When they were safely out of the neighborhood and back on the highway, Margaery snorted. Sandor looked at her sideways, "I'm sorry, that just reminded me of high school." She laughed.

"You egg a lot of cars in high school?"

"A few, but that's not all. Just you know sneaking around in the middle of the night, running from adults, that sort of thing."

"You're an odd one, Tyrell."

"You're the one who came up with the bird seed!"

Sandor dropped Margaery off back at her apartment just as the sun began to rise, but stopped her before she could jump out of the truck, "You're serious about this girl, right? Because she's been through some shit with that boy, and she deserves someone who's going to be there for her."

Margaery smiled at him, the little crooked one that she saved for rare occasions such as this, "Yeah, I'm really serious about her."

"Good." Sandor nodded, now that the gentle moment was over, he was all back to his gruff self, "You did well tonight."

"You too." She opened the door and swung down.

"Butterfingers." He called after her just as she was about to shut the door.

"What did you call me?"

"You heard."

Margaery shook her head and made her way back up to her apartment. It had taken a while for her to get close to the scarred man, but now that she had, she could scarcely imagine her life without him. He felt like one of her brothers, and she knew that even if he would never admit it, she and Tyrion were the closest thing to family he had left.

The attack on Joffrey's car was a small blip in the local paper, but nothing ever came of the police investigation opened.

…

A week passed, a wonderful week during which Margaery kept in close contact with the Stark girls, Sandor finished the house, and nobody heard from Joffrey Baratheon.

Margaery was ecstatic, but couldn't help the worry that sat heavy in the back of her mind. She brought it up one evening when they were all at the house. The kitchen was nearly complete and Sandor was just working on the backsplash tiles. Margaery perched on the kitchen island, a bottle of red wine partly opened in her lap, "What are we going to do about this episode?"

Tyrion looked up from his tablet with a thoughtful look, "We could do like we did with the Fry couple when they divorced in the middle of the renovation."

Margaery hummed, getting the cork out and looking around for a cup. She zeroed in on a plastic cup on the counter across from her, she picked it up and peered inside, finding an assortment of screws and nails. With a shrug she emptied it onto the island beside her, blew out the dust, and poured herself a healthy cup, "We would just have to reshoot listings, a walk through, and some bits about style with a dummy couple."

Tyrion held his hand out for the cup and grimaced slightly when he tasted an undertone of sawdust in the wine, "Exactly. We might even be able to buy the house back from the Baratheons and hold onto it as a model home for a bit before listing it as finished."

"Always finding a way to turn a profit, eh?" Sandor commented.

"I'm a Lannister." Tyrion said by way of explanation.

Margaery refilled the cup and took a long sip before offering it to Podrick who had been filming their interaction, likely for use in some promotional reel or commercial. The young man blushed but accepted the wine, turning the cup to avoid placing his lips on the lipstick stain Margaery had left.

"Marge, pass me a couple of spacers." Sandor asked, holding out one hand behind him.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The little plastic things that look like a plus you dumped out of my tool cup."

Margaery picked through the bits and passed over the spacers, "It's a bit of a mess in here." She commented.

"It's a construction zone, not a fucking winebar." Sandor deadpanned. Margaery held out the plastic cup and he took it, drinking deeply.

* * *

 **A/N- Hope you enjoy, thanks for the reviews, and keep those coming ;). Hopefully you don't find this chapter too far fetched, but now that Joff's out of the picture, our lovely ladies can get a move on.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N- Our girls are adorable, Arya is simultaneously the best wing woman and biggest cock block.**

* * *

Tyrion made a modest offer to the Baratheons and was able to negotiate a good price for the house. They finished the fix in a matter of days following that and they got a member of Sandor's construction crew and his wife to act as their fake couple. They reshot visiting listings with the new couple, and then a few bits against a green screen that Podrick would use some sort of editing magic to make it look as though the couple had been in the actual home before construction began.

All in all, it wasn't too big of a fixing process, and the episode was wrapped and ready for release right on schedule.

Sansa asked to see the finished home. At first, Margaery had been reluctant, but all it took was one pouting look over lunch for her to cave in. She never was able to say no to Sansa.

They went in the afternoon, light streamed in through the large bay windows in the front room, casting everything in a golden glow, "It's beautiful. You all did such a wonderful job with this." Sansa whispered, standing in the entryway.

Margaery couldn't help but preen under the compliment, "It's mainly Sandor, the man is a miracle worker."

They continued through, and in the kitchen, Sansa paused. She ran her fingers along the cabinets and a sad smile came across her face, "What are you thinking?" Margaery asked.

"I can just see it. Especially in here." Sansa leant heavily against the counter, "I can see Lady running through the yard, kids doing homework at that kitchen table. I can see the happy life I was supposed to have with Joffrey."

Margaery came to stand beside her, offering comfort in her closeness. Sansa wrapped an arm around Margaery's shoulders, drawing she shorter woman into her side, "I don't regret leaving him, I know that was the right thing. I just had this whole image in my head of what our life could be, how happy we could be, and it hurts a bit saying goodbye to that."

"You can still get that." Margaery said.

"I know."

They stood together a short while, both of their minds on the future before Margaery broke the silence, "Besides, this laminate flooring is god awful."

"You said the light wood looked nice!"

"You seemed so excited about it, I lied."

Sansa gently punched Margaery on the arm, "I can't believe you, Tyrell."

…

Margaery wanted to move on immediately. She wanted a happily ever after with 2.5 kids and a picket fence, and a dog in the backyard. A dog named Lady. She wanted to swoop in and draw Sansa into her arms, and fill their days with soft movie nights in fleece pajamas, and fancy dinner dates with complimentary dresses, and leave lipstick marks all down the redhead's pale neck.

She wanted to protect Sansa and make her happy.

But mostly she wanted to respect the Stark's wishes, and Sansa wanted to be single for a while. She had been with Joffrey since her senior year of college, and she hadn't been single in four years. She needed to spend some time alone before she could commit again.

So Margaery was patient. Painfully patient.

She inserted herself in Sansa's life as a new best friend. She took the redhead out on lunch dates, surprised her with coffee at work, and planned little girls nights that they forced Arya into.

It was nearly two months later at one of those girls nights that Sansa finally made her move. Margaery was sprawled across the couch in her and Arya's apartment, idly scratching Lady who was lying along the couch in front of her, "The venn diagram of houses in a zone of the city that allows for exotic pets and houses that have enough land for horses is exactly four. And beside that, the wife, Danny, wants it in a good school district!" She ranted, "I mean this is basically impossible and that's not even looking at any of the interior things they want."

Sansa lifted the brunette's feet and slid beneath them on the couch, "What exotic pets do they have?" Arya asked from the kitchen.

"Komodo dragons." Margaery stole some popcorn from the bowl on Sansa's lap, "Three of them. Who the hell keeps dragons as pets?"

"Aren't they lizards?" Sansa moved the popcorn closer to the brunette.

"Whatever they are, they're a pain in my ass."

They selected a romcom to watch for the evening and cracked open a bottle of wine. Over the course of the movie they made it through that bottle, and when they paused for a quick bathroom break intermission, Sansa asked if she should open another.

"I shouldn't, I've got to drive home." Margaery said, her lips tucking up in the corner.

"You could always spend the night."

"No, I would hate to put you out like that."  
Sansa was gentle in her insistence, "It wouldn't be an inconvenience, I promise."

"I've got to be at the house early tomorrow."

"You can shower here, borrow some clothes."

Margaery scanned a gaze up and down Sansa, making a point of dragging her eyes down Sansa's long legs.

The redhead blushed under the scrutiny, "I'm sure we could find something for you."

Margaery let her sweat it out for another moment, "Okay, if you're sure I wouldn't be a bother."

"You're practically our third roommate at this point, Marge." Arya yelled from the kitchen, doing her sisterly duty of ruining any sort of soft moment Sansa was trying to have.

So the decision was made for her. Sansa opened another bottle, and Margaery tucked in, drawing the blanket closer around herself and shamelessly scooting in closer to tuck herself into Sansa's side. Arya came in from the kitchen, arms laden down with snacks and resumed the movie, not giving the girls cuddling on the couch a second thought.

When the credits rolled across the screen, and Arya turned in for the night, Margaery followed Sansa's lead to her bedroom, "I've got some spare shorts and a shirt you can sleep in." The redhead offered over her shoulder, digging through a drawer to find the clothes.

She handed them to Margaery, "Bathroom's down the hall."

Under regular circumstances, Margaery would just strip right there, sure to get her point across. But this wasn't regular circumstances, this was Sansa. So she took the clothes and dutifully changed in the bathroom at the end of the hall.

And because it wasn't regular circumstances, Margaery didn't dare presume anything. She went from the bathroom to the front room and laid down on the couch, stretching out like a cat and getting comfortable in the plush cushions. She remained there for nearly ten minutes until Sansa popped a confused head out of her bedroom door.

"You don't actually think you're sleeping on the couch, do you?"

It was Margaery's turn to blush as she shrugged, "I didn't want to be presumptuous."

Sansa rolled her eyes, "Come on then."

They got comfortable beneath the covers, having been invited into the redhead's bed, Margaery was no longer playing coy. She curled right into Sansa's side, drawing the taller woman's arm across her waist and laying her head on Sansa's shoulder.

For just a second, Sansa stiffened under the contact, but then she melted. Shifting a bit until she could comfortably hold the shorter woman, slipping her opposite arm under Margaery and running it through her long hair.

Lady shot the brunette a glare for having apparently stolen her spot in Sansa's bed. In protest, she padded up and laid down on Sansa's opposite side. The bed was hardly large enough to accomodate two fully grown adults and a massive dog, but Sansa didn't have the heart to shove Lady off.

When Margaery woke in the morning, she felt more secure than she had in years. They had shifted in the night, and now Margaery found herself laying nearly completely on top of the redhead. Sansa was still asleep, her breath coming in gentle puffs against Margaery's cheek, and she took a moment just to appreciate the view.

Sansa looked years younger in her sleep, more peaceful than Margaery had ever seen her awake, her lips barely parted, and such an inviting pink, Margaery had to restrain herself from leaning in and kissing them. Sansa's hair was splayed across the pillows in a halo, and Margaery idly ran her fingers through it while she waited for Sansa to wake.

"No leering without a permit."

Margaery chuckled, Sansa's voice thick and hoarse from sleep was among the sexiest things she had ever heard, "I'm not leering. I was merely appreciating you, sweetling."

Their morning was lazy and slow, they stayed in bed for a long while, simply enjoying being close to one another. When they finally emerged, hair tousled, and clothes wrinkled, they found Arya sitting at the kitchen table, her hair in unruly spikes and a pair of thick framed black glasses low on her nose.

"Coffee's hot." She offered, raising a mug of her own in a gesture towards the freshly brewed pot on the counter.

"Wonderful." Margaery smiled, she sauntered over to the kitchen and poured herself a cup, "Do you two like pancakes?"

Arya and Sansa spoke at the same time.

"Of course."

"You don't have to-"

"Shut up, Sansa. She's offering."

"She's a guest."

"She basically moved in when you did."

Sansa blushed and her mouth floundered open and shut in search of a reply. She was saved by Margaery, "It's no problem, I love cooking and it's the least I could do to thank you for letting me crash overnight."

Sansa was about to protest, but at that moment the brunette turned around and reached up on her tiptoes to pull down a large mixing bowl. The clothes she had borrowed to sleep in were large on her, but she had rolled the waist of the shorts and now as she reached up, Sansa could see the curve of her ass peeking out from beneath the material and her mouth ran dry.

Watching Margaery in her clothes in her kitchen was something she was sure she would never tire of. Margaery knew exactly what she was doing though, and once she had the bowl she turned around and shot Sansa a small wink. Taking delight in the blush she caused to raise on Sansa's cheeks.

After breakfast was eaten and Margaery had raided Sansa's closet for something she could make work for the day ahead (settling on a simple button up and a pair of slacks rolled at the bottom to make up for their height difference), it was time to say goodbye.

"I'll see you tomorrow for lunch?" Margaery confirmed, standing in the entryway.

"Yes."

"Okay, thanks again for letting me stay the night."

"Any time."

Margaery rocked forward to press a kiss to Sansa's cheek, "Have a good day, sweetling."

Sansa watched her walk down the hall a little way before Arya let out an annoyed huff from just behind her, "For seven's sake. Just go and kiss her properly already!"

She only hesitated a moment before taking off down the hall, "Margaery, wait!"

The brunette turned from where she just at the top of the stairs, she didn't have a chance to ask question forming on her lips before they were covered with Sansa's own. She cupped both of Margaery's cheeks, and just barely managed to control the momentum of her sprint down the hall so she didn't completely crash into the brunette. Rather she ended up with Margaery pinned against the wall and her own hips, pressed together head to toe.

Margaery responded eagerly to the kiss, her own arms going around Sansa's waist to hold her even tighter.

They broke apart only when air became a problem, but they stayed in close contact, foreheads resting against each other.

"So, um. I really like you, and I think I'm ready to give this a try." Sansa said by way of explanation.

Margaery chuckled, "Yeah, I had sort of assumed that.

…

The difference between Sansa and Margaery as best friends and Sansa and Margaery as girlfriends honestly isn't that large. There are still lunch dates (though now they're actually called 'dates') and surprise coffee deliveries, and girls nights in which Margaery takes far too much amusement in forcing a whole number of girly activities on Arya (mud masks are Margaery's definitive favorite, and as much as Arya protests, she obediently sits still and lets the Tyrell carefully apply the thick brown clay to her face).

The main shift is their physical proximity. Margaery had always been a very physical person, holding hands, cuddling during movies, brushing hair out of people's faces. But now everything went up a notch. Holding hands turned into tucking herself beneath Sansa's arm as they walked down the street, cuddling turned to her practically lying atop Sansa on the small couch in her apartment when they watched movies.

And the kissing, once Margaery learned just how much fun kissing Sansa was, she couldn't get enough. Much to Arya's dismay. She caught them making out in the living room, on the couch, in the kitchen, against the refrigerator, in the hallway, everywhere. She had gone so far as to repurpose the spray bottle she used when the dogs were doing something bad and whenever she caught Margaery and Sansa making out in a 'public' area of the apartment, she would squirt them.

She even took to chastising them, shouting, "Bad girls!" as she sprayed the water.

Margaery found it entertaining, especially since it pissed Sansa off so much.

The redhead was just as bad, Margaery's habits quickly rubbed off on her. She could hardly keep her hands to herself, constantly reaching out for Margaery as if needing tactile reassurance that the other girl was still there.

At work, Margaery was still an awful flirt, but now it held none of the undertone it used to. Now it was clear that it was all for show. Between filming, she would smile secretively at her phone when she got a particularly sweet text from Sansa.


	5. Chapter 5

When they'd been together for a month, Sansa made her first appearance on 'Fixer Upper'. Margaery had spent the night at her apartment and in the morning forgotten her purse with her notes on the latest reno project. The school Sansa taught at had a late start and she was able to stop by the large ranch home they were working on to drop off the purse for her girlfriend.

Sansa texted when she pulled up outside and received the enthusiastic reply, 'Come on in!'

So she did. The house was a disaster zone, she had never seen exposed drywall except for once at a New Years party that she had hosted along with Jon and Robb while they were all in college. Everyone had gotten rather smashed, and when they boys started some ridiculous competition of doing pull ups off a door jamb they were destined for disaster. Robb ripped off the thin strip of wood and fell, putting his elbow through the wall.

She found Margaery in the backyard with Sandor examining the fence.

"I'm just saying, the left side was replaced more recently so we don't need to completely knock out the fence and redo it."

"Yes, but wouldn't it look so much better with a grey slate poly fence. It would last longer too."

"Those are a complete pain in the arse to install." Sandor grumbled.

Margaery finally caught sight of Sansa over the man's shoulder, "Sansa!" She exclaimed, taking off across the yard and jumping into her girlfriend's arms.

The redhead let out a puff of breath as Margaery collided with her. She rolled with it though, used to Margaery's excited reactions, and she wrapped her arms around the brunette, picking her up and swinging her around in a circle.

"Hi there." She laughed.

"Hello, sweetling." Margaery whispered, kissing the redhead's cheek.

Sansa set her down, and held out the purse, "For you."

"Thanks."

Sandor cleared his throat, causing both women to turn to him, the redhead with a slight blush on her cheeks, "Sansa, you know Sandor." Margaery did the introductions.

"Nice to see you again." Sansa nodded politely.

"You as well."

"I uh- had better be off." Sansa said, tucking her hands awkwardly into her back pockets, "I've got a meeting at ten that I still need to do some prep for."

"See you tonight."

"Yeah."

Margaery wrapped an arm around Sansa's neck to draw her down and press a solid kiss to her lips. When she released the redhead, Sansa was slightly dazed, a silly smile on her face. She hardly managed a little wave over her shoulder at Sandor as she left.

"You two are gross."

"We're fucking adorable."

Neither of them noticed that Podrick had been filming the whole thing. The little interaction made it into the final cut of the episode, and Sansa saw it one evening as she was cooking dinner. She liked having the show on in the background, the sound of Margaery's voice in the background while she was cooking was relaxing.

She was ridiculously surprised when she saw her own red hair on the television screen and watched as she picked Margaery up and twirled her around.

…

When they'd been together for four months, Margaery showed up to a consultation meeting in a mood more foul than Sandor and Tyrion had ever seen.

"What's wrong with you?" Sandor asked bluntly.

"Sansa and I had a fight."

"So, you two fight constantly about stupid shit." The tall man recalled the numerous times he had been witness to the two women arguing about whether to get wheat pasta or regular, or who's apartment to stay at, or any number of small spats that always ended in disgustingly sweet kisses and compromises.

"Not like this." Margaery shook her head, "She kicked me out of her apartment."

"What did you do?" Tyrion queried.

"Slept with Cersei Lannister."

Sandor couldn't contain his laughter, "That one came back to bit you in the ass." He got up to go and make a couple cups of coffee.

Margaery punched him weakly in the arm as he passed, and Tyrion sighed. That certainly wasn't helping, "How did she find out?"

"Cersei told her."

"What?"

"Sansa was at the store and she ran into Cersei who had seen that episode where we kissed and she made some comment about how it felt to have her sloppy seconds. Sansa put it together and then asked me about it last night."

"You didn't lie about it, did you?" Sandor passed the brunette a cup of coffee.

"Of course not." Margaery looked offended at the thought, "But still, she was mad that I hadn't told her sooner." She thought back to the worst fight they'd had to date.

…

"You slept with her."

"It didn't mean anything." Margaery tried to explain, "We just hooked up a couple of times."

"Why did you hide it?"  
"I wasn't hiding anything! Did you want a alphabetized list of all the people I've slept with before we got together?"

Sansa's eyes flashed, "No, but you might have thought to tell me that one of those people is the mother of the man I was engaged to!"

"And when would have been a good time?" Margaery shot back, "Yesterday at lunch, just casually mention, 'Oh yeah, don't think anything of it, but one time Cersei Lannister bent me over the vanity in the bathroom I designed for her and her husband and fucked me until I walked funny.' Is that what you wanted me to say?"

Sansa clenched her jaw, "Get out."

"Sansa." The brunette took a quick step forward, reaching out and trying to catch one of Sansa's hands, but the Stark wouldn't allow it, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, I don't want to hear it. Just get out."

"Can we just talk about this?"

Sansa sighed, "Later, but now I just need some space to think about this, alright?"

"Okay." Margaery bit her lip, "You know that you're the only person I care about now, right?"

"I know."

The brunette nodded. She grabbed her purse and only hesitated a moment before pressing a soft kiss to Sansa's cheek and leaving the apartment.

…

"We've never fought like that before." Margaery took a contemplative sip of coffee.

Tyrion knew a thing or two about angry women and decided to impart some wisdom, "Okay, here's what you do. Send her flowers, I don't care what kind and I'm sure you'll be able to come up with some ridiculously meaningful bouquet or some shit, just make sure it's a lot of flowers. Then apologize, profusely, it's all your fault, even if it isn't."

"You make a lot of women angry?" Sandor teased.

"A fair number."

Margaery pulled out her cell phone, "Yeah, that's a good idea. Let me just make a call, and I'll be ready for the meeting. What couple do we have coming in today?"

"The Martells, just moved here from Dorne." Tyrion supplied.

The woman nodded and stood from the table, bringing the phone to her ear, "Wilas, hi! How're things at High Garden? Yeah, all good with me. Listen, I need to get some flowers delivered." She left the conference room, listing off flowers she wanted included.

…

All told, Margaery sent Sansa three bouquets to the high school over the course of the school day. It was enough that even the students were gossiping about it by eighth period.

She sent two more that evening. When the sixth one arrived the following morning, Sansa called.

"I've run out of vases."

"I can have the next bouquet delivered with one." Margaery offered.

Sansa laughed, "How about you bring one over."

"To your apartment?"

"Yeah. Does dinner tonight work?"

"Dinner tonight is perfect."

Margaery showed up to dinner with a bottle of wine and two dozen roses.

Sansa didn't have a chance in hell of staying angry when the brunette flashed her that crooked smile, "You shouldn't have."

Margaery shrugged, "I wanted to."

"I have literally nowhere to put them." Sansa stood aside and let Margaery into the apartment, gesturing at the flowers overflowing every surface. They were in an assortment of vases and tall drinking glasses.

The next morning Arya threw a fit when she couldn't brew the coffee since the carafe was filled with roses.

…

Sandor was really desperately sweaty. The house they were working on was for a couple and their young daughter and they had just found out that the fireplace wasn't up to code and Sandor had to demolish the entire thing and rebuild it.

He was attacking the brick monstrosity for a sledge hammer when Margaery came by to visit the project, "I thought you would have had that finished by now." She commented between hammer blows.

Sandor turned slowly, dramatically pushing his safety glasses up to sit on the top of his head and wiping his face with a bandana from his pocket before he gave her a proper glare, "It's three fucking feet of brick thick and a story and a half high."

"So it's going to take you what, another hour?" He narrowed his eyes, "Two hours?" A raised eyebrow, "I'll trust you to get it done."

"There's a good girl." Sandor smiled, setting down his sledge hammer and taking a break, "What brings you here on a construction day? Need to get measurements for those french doors to the dining room?"  
"I do need those measurements, but actually I wanted to ask for a small teensy tiny favor."

"What broke?" He asked bluntly.

Margaery smiled and pulled out a bottle of Gatorade she had brought as a bribe, "My sink is leaking."

"Which one?"

"Both."

Sandor rubbed a tired hand down his face, "For how long?"

"About two weeks."

"And you can't call the super because?"

Margaery sighed, "Because the plumber he calls takes forever to get scheduled, and last time I might have told him to go to hell when he made a comment about my ass."

"Of course you did." Sandor nodded, taking a long sip of the sports drink, "I can be over tomorrow night."

"Great, I'll make dinner."

"Lasagne?"

"Anything for you, Sandy."

"Never call me that again."

"Right, got it. See you tomorrow, you'll have the fireplace done by then, yeah?"

Sandor shot her a final disproving glare as the brunette carefully picked her way through the rubble to the front door.

…

The next day Sandor was laying on his back, his head beneath the sink in Margaery's bathroom with a wrench in hand, "Okay, now try the hot water tap."

"It's on, no water."

"Great." He grunted as he began unscrewing something.

"So I need some advice."

"Draino." Sandor said.

"What?"

"There's your advice. Buy some Draino, it's a wonder you don't have more plumbing problems given how much fuckin hair you have."

Margaery rolled her eyes, despite the effect being lost on the man beneath the sink, "Yeah, thanks for that. Here's the thing, I want to move in with Sansa."

"No you don't."

"No I don't." Margaery agreed with a sigh, dropping to sit on the edge of her tub, "But I want her to move in with me."

"There we go." Sandor chuckled, "If you moved in anywhere with her you would have half the walls knocked down and the bathroom retiled within a week."

"I know, but if she moves in, it won't be an issue. My apartment is already perfect, and it's got plenty of space, and it's pet friendly so there wouldn't be any issue with Lady moving in." She trailed off.

"So ask her. Hand me a socket wrench." Margaery skimmed the toolbox at her feet and held out her selection for the man, "This is a pair of pliers. The socket wrench had a blue handle."

"Whoops."

"You've been working on a home renovation show for nearly four years, how are you so bad with tools?"

"I'm a decoration person, interior design. I don't built the walls, I choose what to put on them."

"Spare me the lecture." Sandor dismissed.

Margaery sat quietly for a moment, "What if she says no?"

The man did his very best not to roll his eyes, "She's not going to say no. That girl loves you, you've been together nearly a year, and she's basically moved in already."

"No she hasn't."

"How many toothbrushes are on top of this sink right now, Margaery?"

She blushed just the smallest bit, "A toothbrush doesn't mean anything."

"And there's two different kinds of shampoo in the shower."

"You're too observant for a straight man, you know that?"

Sandor finished beneath the sink and slid out, "You're deflecting. Just ask her, she basically lives here already."

"Right, I can do this." Margaery pepped herself up the smallest bit, "Lasagne will be done in like fifteen minutes, just enough time for you to do the kitchen sink!"

"You're lucky you're a good cook." Sandor said, moving his stuff to fix the next sink.

…

Margaery presented Sansa with a key by the end of the week, and four days later the redhead was moved in.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N- supportive girlfriends are supportive. we are all shireen baratheon and wish that sansa could have been our high school engilsh teacher. hope this provides some good background into sansa's characterization in this story.**

* * *

"So I'm thinking we completely change the feel of this space. We finish the fireplace with concrete, do glass paned hangar doors on the dining room. Think sleek edges, straight lines, lots of white, black, and grey. What do you think?"

The Baratheons looked around, trying to envision the space the way Margaery had described it. Selyse was the first to answer, "I love it, I've always wanted something more modern."

"I suppose that would look nice." Stannis agreed, "I like the idea of being able to see straight through from the kitchen to the family room and dining room."

"Great!" Margaery smiled, "On the back wall we completely take out the drywall and do floor to ceiling windows-"

"That sounds like a lot of windows to clean."

Margaery spun around to see the Baratheon's ten year old daughter Shireen looking critically at the back wall where the proposed windows would go.

"I'm so sorry about her." Selyse cut in, sending her daughter a warning look, "Our sitter cancelled last minute. After this, she's going to along with Stannis to the office."

The girl looked entirely bored with that prospect, "I can take her." Margaery said, surprising even herself.

"Oh no, I wouldn't want her bothering you all day."  
"It would be no bother." Margaery found herself insisting, "She can help me find some neat pieces for the house, would you like that Shireen?"

The young girl was already beaming at the prospect of being able to spend the afternoon with the stylish Margaery Tyrell, she nodded eagerly, "Can I, mom?"

Selyse hesitated a moment, but Stannis was all for it, "She would enjoy it much better than staying with me at the office."

"Well I suppose-"

"Thanks mom!" Shireen cut her mother off before she could change her mind.

"Then it's decided!" Margaery grinned, "I can drop her back at your house sometime this evening, when do you normally get home from work?"

…

Margaery took Shireen to the flooring store where the girl had some very valuable insight on tile, to her secret storage container full of furniture pieces she had picked up over the years, and even to her woodworking guy.

Davos was completely taken with Shireen.

"I'm working on a house for Shireen and her family. It's aggressively modern, sharp, clean, not your usual stuff I know, but I was thinking you could make some accent pieces." Margaery introduced.

"I can work with that."

"Great. I was hoping for a mantle, the fireplace is going to be concrete and I was thinking something a bit more rustic, sort of tie the room together."  
"I think I have some great pieces of wood out back I've been saving for something like this. Do you want to go sift through them and mark any that stand out?"

"Sounds good. Shireen, do you want to help me look?" The girl had been extremely helpful so far, and Margaery actually thought that her eye could help find some nice pieces.

"Can I stay here with Mr. Seaworth?"

Margaery looked for the man for an answer, "I'd love to show her around the shop."

Fifteen minutes later, Margaery had decided she wanted just about every piece of wood that Davos had to offer, and she came back into the main part of the shop to find him showing Shireen how to work the lathe.

When it was time to go, he presented her with a little hand carved deer and the offer to return any time.

Their next stop was for lunch. Margaery decided to splurge a bit, taking the girl to her favorite bistro which Shirren loved. She felt extremely grown up sitting across from Margaery at lunch, and Margaery couldn't say she didn't love their time together as well. She ordered an extra sandwich and took Shireen on a bit of a side trip to the Westeros Preparatory Academy.

The woman at the security desk recognized Margaery and was writing her a nametag before she even reached the desk, "Good afternoon, Allana. How're your boys?"

"Growing faster each day, who have you got with you today?"

"Shireen, we're going to deliver a little lunch to Sansa."

"How sweet!" The woman was without a doubt one of Sansa and Margaery's biggest cheerleaders, "Here's your nametags, you know the way."

"You're a doll, Allana." Margaery smiled, leading the way for her and Shireen through the halls of the high school. It was during a class period so the hallways were blissfully empty of teenagers, "God, it smells just like when I was in high school." Margaery commented.

"Like what?" Shireen trailed along at her elbow. .

"Like sweat, and body spray, and angst."

Shireen was clearly going to ask another question when they rounded a corner and Margaery stopped, peeking in the small glass window of a classroom. She adored watching Sansa in her element, the students were completely enraptured in the lecture and Sansa was smiling, her shoulders thrown back in confidence.

After a minute there was a pause in the class where Sansa must have given her students an assignment and she went to sit at her desk, "We're up!" Margaery opened the door and started in.

The students by now were used to seeing Margaery Tyrell popping into classes from time to time, and a few smiled and gave little hello waves. Margaery was halfway across the room when she realized she was alone, Shireen was standing frozen in the doorway, a deer in the headlights expression on her face.

Margaery went back, she kneeled down in front of the girl, "They're all really nice, I promise." She confided in a whisper.

She shared a little smile with Shireen and took the girl's hand, leading her across the front of the room to Sansa's desk, "We brought you some lunch."

"Thank you." The redhead's grin was wide as she took in the sight of her girlfriend hand in hand with an adorable kid, "And who might you be?"

"Shireen." The girl supplied.

"We're doing that beautiful corner house on Dragonstone for her family."

"Oh, that house is lovely."

Margaery nodded, placing the takeout she had brought on a clean bit of Sansa's desk, the redhead smiled as she read the logo on the side of the bag, "Hot Pie's! Is it a holiday I forgot about?"

"I don't need a holiday to surprise my girlfriend with the best sandwich in all of Westeros." Margaery said with a tinge of fake offense in her voice, "We had better go, we've got a hot date."

"Oh, should I be jealous?" It had taken months for them to get here, where Sansa would so easily flirt with Margaery, especially here where she knew full well her entire classroom of seventeen year olds were listening in.

"No, Bronn doesn't look nearly as cute in a tennis skort as you do."

Sansa blushed and Margaery smirked.

"I'll see you at home tonight." The brunette said, bending down to kiss Sansa chastely.

She waved over her shoulder as she pulled the classroom door shut behind her, lingering just long enough to hear one of the students exclaim, "Ms. Stark, you moved in with Margaery?"

"Now I'm no expert." Sansa began dryly, "But I don't think my living arrangement has to do with Crime and Punishment."

There was a disappointed murmur as the gossip was shut down.

…

Sansa was packing up her things toward the end of her final class of the day when she heard it. As a high school teacher she had gotten rather adept at picking out exactly what her students were saying, and she couldn't help the chills she felt when she heard it.

"I'm sorry, but can't make it to the soccer game on Friday, Tom."

"All the other boy's girlfriends are going to be there."

"It's Emily's birthday and she's having a special dinner."

"If you really loved me, you would be at my game."

There was a pause, "I guess I can tell Emily that I can't go."

Sansa spent the final five minutes before the end of class debating whether or not to say anything, and when the bell rang, she couldn't help the words that tumbled out of her mouth, "Elizabeth, would you stay after for a minute?"

The girl nodded, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and meeting Sansa at the front of the room, "Is this about my last essay because I might have gotten some of the stuff on nihilism wrong, but my sister was really confusing when she tried to explain it to me."

Sansa grinned, she had Elizabeth's older sister in class a couple years ago and knew that she was now studying philosophy at the local state university, "No, it's not about that. It's actually about Tom."

"Oh."

Sansa observed the teenager for a beat. She reminded her of herself in high school, eyes bright and excited for the future, all innocent and aspirational. It hurt her to do this, but she wished someone had stepped in for her, "How long have you two been together?"

"Four months next week."

"Wow." In high schooler time four months was basically two years, "I'm sure he's wonderful, but the way he was talking to you isn't alright." Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in confusion, prompting the teacher to continue, "If a boy is forcing you to choose between spending time with him and your friends, that's not a good sign."

"You just don't get it." Elizabeth denied, "Margaery is your best friend so you don't have to choose, it's different with me and Tom."

Sansa smiled just the smallest bit at mention of her own significant other, "That may be true, but Margaery isn't my only friend.I know what it's like. I was in high school too once believe it or not, and I'll even let you in on a little secret." The teen's eyebrows rose, prompting Sansa to go on, "I was engaged to a man last year, so I understand having to balance between friends and your boy. And asking you to prove how much you love him like he did about the soccer game isn't what a healthy relationship looks like."

The teenager's eyes cast down to the floor, and Sansa knew she had struck a chord, "I know it's a lot to think about. But if you need anything, I'm here for you or I can connect you to any of the other resources the school has to offer."

Elizabeth nodded, but still didn't say anything. She turned and walked towards the door of the room where she paused, "Thank you, Ms. Stark."

Sansa smiled, knowing she had done the right thing, "Of course. By the way, your essay was wonderful."

She lingered a bit longer in her classroom, walking between desks and picking up trash. All the while reflecting on her own experience. She wished that there had been someone there when everything started going South with Joffrey, but then she realized, it didn't happen all at once. It was a gradual process.

They met in her senior year of college, Joff was a year older and had already graduated. He was living in an apartment close to campus and for that first year he was perfect, they were perfect. He was charming, and he took her out on wonderful dates, she met his family and was enraptured by how perfect everything seemed. It only made sense that she move in with him when she graduated and got a teaching job nearby. Everything was perfect, until the cracks started showing.

They were always small things, little comments about how she was gaining weight or how late she was at the school. Just small things, digs at how much she cared about him, how devoted she was to the relationship. Nobody else saw, her own family was so far spread, Robb and Jon had graduated her first year of college and moved across the country, Arya went to university across the sea in Braavos and only moved to Westeros years later when Sansa and Joffrey were engaged. She was entirely alone.

The Baratheons, Sansa quickly learned, were not as perfect as they seemed. Cersei was fully aware of her oldest son's controlling tendencies but didn't care to step in, it was lucky if Robert even knew his children's middle names. The only saving grace was Myrcella, four years younger than Sansa, but she clearly knew what her brother was like having grown up with him. She always smiled so sadly at Sansa when she saw her at holidays or family functions, always asking with the dearest sincerity how Sansa was and if she was happy.

Sansa for her part knew no other options. She moved straight from a dorm into Joffrey's apartment and the gentle way that his abuse escalated made it feel as if that's how their relationship had always been. In four years, Joffrey had managed to completely warp her expectations, isolate her from her friends and family, and render her entirely dependent on his whim. Sansa could scarcely remember a time she wasn't walking on eggshells, and by the time they were engaged it felt like second nature.

Margaery, with her brash confidence and her unwillingness to let things go, was the first person to see through her little show. The first person she was close enough with to let in.

Now looking back, she couldn't believe how she had let things get so far out of hand. But that was all behind her, now she had Margaery and Arya and she would never let that happen again.

…

Later that evening when Margaery arrived home to their shared apartment, she found Sansa humming to herself as she spun around the kitchen wearing an apron and preparing dinner. She looked like a 50's housewife, and Margaery felt herself fall just a little more in love. Margaery paused to watch her girlfriend for a while, enjoying the simple domesticity of the moment.

Sansa caught sight of Margaery watching her and perked up instantly, "Hello there."

"Hey, sweetling." The brunette grinned, stepping into the kitchen.

Sansa surprised Margaery, wrapping her arms around the shorter woman and lifting her just a bit off the ground and pressing their lips together in a solid kiss.

"What was that for?" Margaery asked when she was set right on her feet again, "Not that I'm complaining of course."

"Nothing. I just love you."

"I love you too, Sansa."

The redhead was quiet a moment, holding Margaery close with a contemplative look on her face, "We should get married."

"Excuse me?"

Sansa got a little half grin on her face as she let go of the brunette and dropped down onto one knee, "Margaery Tyrell, I love you so much, and the past year and a half with you has been filled with such happiness and strength, I know that I want this for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?"

Margaery pressed a hand over her mouth to try and contain the little surprised gasp that jumped up her throat, and she nodded vigorously, "Yes, of course I'll marry you."

Surging up, Sansa caught Margaery's happy laughter on her own lips and swallowed the noise.


End file.
